


Cheering for us in the Cheap Seats

by allmilhouse



Category: Men's Hockey RPF, Music RPF
Genre: Crack, Established Relationship, Long-Distance Relationship, M/M, Phone Calls & Telephones
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-12
Updated: 2018-09-12
Packaged: 2019-07-11 08:58:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 813
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15969029
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/allmilhouse/pseuds/allmilhouse
Summary: Dating in general is hard. Dating someone with a demanding job is especially hard. Dating while being a well-known musician is another level of grueling. But lining up their schedules was the worst part of all.An imagined relationship between a (canadian) rock star and a hockey GM





	Cheering for us in the Cheap Seats

**Author's Note:**

> Ok. So. I know I preface every fic by apologising and saying it’s my worst thing yet, but this one. Oh boy. Long story short, I took an American friend to an Arkells show, and she googled them afterwards. The first thing that popped up was a TSN radio interview, a weird way to promote The Rally, but it was titled something like “The Arkells’ Max Kerman on his relationship with Kyle Dubas”. I was laughing too hard to actually listen to it, but anyway this fucking thing got in my head and wouldn’t leave, so I’m inflicting it on all of you instead
> 
> Title from Kiss Cam. I have no idea when this is supposed to be set. Spring 2017, I guess? Since Arkells played the NHL awards that year, and Lou probably made the Leafs staff work hard before the Vegas and regular drafts
> 
> Does Max even live in Hamilton still? Apologies to Walk Off the Earth, but they were the first not-great Canadian band I could think of. Also apologies to Kyle Dubas for assuming he’s bad at cooking, and to him and Max for making this fucking thing

“Hey, I should be able to drive down to Hamilton this weekend.” Classic Kyle. Right to the point, all business. Max’s heart soared when he first saw his phone buzz on the kitchen counter, but sank as he turned to look at the calendar.

Dating in general is hard. Dating someone with a demanding job is especially hard. Dating while being a well-known musician is another level of grueling. But lining up their schedules was the worst part of all.

“You know I love when you come here, but I leave on tour in two days. It’s ok though, we can catch up at the NHL awards next month. Vegas, baby! You, me, and the wildest room service this planet has to offer.” Max was getting hyped just thinking about it.

Kyle sighed, the phone line going all fuzzy. “Yeah, except I’m not going. We’re still doing draft prep and I’m needed up here.”

“Oh come on!”

“I’m sorry! Look, this is the one week I can’t leave Toronto.”

“You say that every week,” Max countered.

“True. But this time, as much as it pains me, I really mean it.” Kyle sounded genuinely remorseful, and Max softened.

“I’m not mad at you, I’m just frustrated. It’s been too long.”

“I know. I miss your perfect skin and curls.”

Max laughed. “You do not get to use my lyrics against me.”

Kyle’s smirk was audible. “You prefer Walk Off the Earth?”

“Come down here and say that to my face, you coward,” Max taunted, still laughing, but half serious. He loved showing Kyle around Hamilton. Playing tour guide was one of his favourite things, and a fun game they sometimes played when they both met up on the road- Max knew the Canadian cities better, but Kyle had been impressively knowledgable around smaller US cities like Syracuse and Norfolk.

“And leave this Nylander extension to solve itself? I wish.” Kyle sounded like he really needed a break, and Max knew how to cheer him up.

“6 years, 6.25 per. Done and done. Come on, Kyle! This GM shit is easier than it looks.”

Max could hear Kyle bristle over the phone. “That leaves no money for any defensemen, and you know it.”

“Sell them on the integrity of the team. How important it is to wear the leaf, the history, all that crap. They’ll take a cheap deal.”

“Yeah, that’ll work,” Kyle agreed sarcastically. “And if not I’ll threaten to trade ‘em to Winnipeg.”

“Hey, Winnipeg’s not that bad! We sold out The Garrick there last winter!” It was Kyle’s turn to laugh as Max got more and more petulant. “It’s true! They’re good, frozen people up there. They sing along to everything!”

“I’ll take your word for it,” Kyle conceded. “So, when do you play Toronto?”

Max checked the calendar again. “Next Tuesday. Danforth Music Hall. Doors at 7. Want tickets?”

“Can’t. Dinner meeting with the Marlies’ new AGM. But I’m thinking drinks after the show? Say, my place, around midnight?”

Max pretended to consider it. “Hmm, tempting, but I’m hearing a lot of good offers lately.” He knew Kyle inside and out by now, and waited for his reply, knowing it would take a while. First Kyle would take off his glasses, and pick up a pen, ready to write down the counter offer. Sketch out a few ideas, figure out how far he needed to go. He was a good negotiator, but Max never fought fair.

“Alright,” Kyle finally said. “I can make some concessions. I will have food waiting, whatever you want from anywhere in the GTA. And breakfast in bed the next morning, which I won’t make myself, because the last time I cooked for you, it was a disaster.”

“How do you fuck up a frittata?” Max wailed, clutching his stomach.

“And I won’t check my work phone until you walk out the door,” Kyle continued, ignoring the interruption. “My complete, undivided attention for as long as you can stay.”

“Promise not to complain if I say Wok Box, and throw in a conditional seventh and you’ve got a deal.”

Kyle roared with laughter again. “You temperamental rock stars. Fine. Deal?”

“Deal. I’ll be there after the show, wearing my Matthews jersey.”

“No Ti-Cat jersey? You’re slipping, Max.”

“Yeah, but you love it.”

“I do,” Kyle conceded. “I do.”

“Love you too. You know, if you really loved me, you’d make _Knockin’ at the Door_ the goal song.”

“Ok, goodbye Max,” Kyle said, in mock annoyance.

“Wait! I’ll settle for Drake tickets!”

“Ask Mr Graham yourself, you’re a friend of the family,” Kyle pointed out, taking the last laugh as he hung up.

Max pulled his calendar off the wall and added in _sleepover at Kyle’s_ , before circling it in a little heart. It wasn’t easy, but he’d be damned if he wanted it any other way.


End file.
